


Of Mitosis and Menagerie

by Jakathine



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Miscommunication, Past Relationship(s), Professor John, Unilock, University Student Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-28 15:37:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakathine/pseuds/Jakathine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Watson, a biology and anatomy professor at the University of Northumberland, meets his match in wit when a sharp tongue young student named Sherlock Holmes waltzes into his classroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Musings

The university was bustling with students, most of who were chatting and filling the air with their excitement.

Dr. Watson smiled to himself as he surveyed the expansion of the student lot from his third floor office. He always liked this time of year, when the students were arriving on the college grounds and making the whole place become alive. Summer semester had students but not near the amount of young people that were currently filing into classrooms. Dr. Watson chuckled and turned back to his desk to focus on correcting any errors on his syllabi. This semester he had to teach two Biology courses with side labs a piece and an anatomy class. Typing slowly, he made sure that his information was correct before saving them to the college’s database for the students to access later in the afternoon. Satisfied now that he had done what was needed for the day, Dr. Watson gathered up his Biology book and went out his office door and directly into a student.

“Omph!” The dark-haired student exclaimed as he accidentally ran into the professor, who had been nearly knocked over by the much taller and slender man.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” The professor said, straightening his sweater before holding out his hand in greeting, “I’m Dr. Watson. Was in my own thoughts.” 

The student regarded the professor’s hand coldly and instead smiled slightly, “Sherlock Holmes.” Was all he said before re-routing himself and continuing down the hall and down the steps.

Dr. Watson stared after Sherlock, surprised at the young man’s rigidness and outright disrespect. Shaking his head, Dr. Watson turned down the hall and took the elevator down to the first floor before walking the path toward the biology classroom. 

Placing the thought out of his mind, Dr. Watson opened the classroom door to a room of chattering students. He smiled as he walked up to the front and started pulling the copies of syllabi he had stowed in his bag. He glanced at the clock and saw it was five until start so he decided to go ahead and gather the students’ attention together.

“Hello, class.” Dr. Watson said.

The students hushed and focused on Dr. Watson, who continued to talk about the class and its purpose for a few moments.

“Here is a copy of the syllabus. I have one posted online but I decided to help you all save a bit of paper today.” Dr. Watson smiled as he took stacks and put them on the edges of desks for the students to pass around.

Suddenly the door, which had been previously closed, flew open and Sherlock stalked into the classroom. Dr. Watson stood and watched as the youth strode across the room before plopping himself into a chair in the very back corner. Sherlock picked up the syllabus that was there and skimmed it before glancing up and meeting eyes with the professor, whose smile had quickly diminished at the abrupt entrance.

“Mr. Holmes, see me after class please.” Dr. Watson stated before turning on his heel and heading back to the front of the classroom.

______________________________________________________

“Upon entering this classroom, Mr. Holmes, I expect you to be more respectful for the other students around you.” Dr. Watson said to Sherlock, who was leaning against a desk in a less-than-respectful way that was making Dr. Watson even more irritated.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “For god’s sake, call me Sherlock. Mr. Holmes is my brother.”

Dr. Watson snorted, “Next time you enter this classroom, be more caring of others. If not, I will have you tossed out for being disruptive. As it is the beginning of the year I would not enjoy doing that.”

Sherlock tilted his head and smiled deviously, making his striking blue eyes glow with an underlying tension. It made Dr. Watson slightly uncomfortable.

“I must be off.” The professor said, gathering his teacher’s bag.

“Of course.” Sherlock replied, getting up and brushing past the teacher, his arm lightly coming in contact with Dr. Watson’s.

The contact gave an unfamiliar strange chill up Dr. Watson’s spine for some odd reason. Dr. Watson shrugged it off, thinking maybe he was being a little too paranoid, and continued on his way.


	2. Malingering

A week or so passed and Sherlock appeared in classes, regularly making a disturbance. Finally, Dr. Watson had had enough and after a brief lecture asked Sherlock to leave and only return if he could behave himself. However,Sherlock did not appear in class at all the next session afterwards. Dr. Watson noted Sherlock's absence, writing down an x by the absentee tally in his notebook. He wondered if maybe what he said had made the youth decide to drop the course. 

“Oh well.” Dr. Watson said aloud, propping his feet up on his desk and leaning back, “One less noisy student the better. Sad that he missed today’s quiz.”

His few moments of peace were quickly interrupted by a loud knock on his door. Dr. Watson groaned slightly since he had just begun to be quite comfortable.

“Come in.” he called out, straightening his tie as he sat regularly in his swivel chair.

Sherlock opened the door and smiled at the professor, “Pardon my absence earlier today, Dr. Watson. I was rather pre-occupied with something.” Sherlock held up a note which he then placed on the professor’s desk.

Dr. Watson gave a look at Sherlock before putting on his glasses to read the note.

“Please excuse Sherlock Holmes for missing your class, Dr. Watson. He was with me and the rest of the Department this afternoon due to my request. Regards, Officer Lestrade, Head of Campus Police.” The note read.

Dr. Watson put down the note, “I had already forewarned everyone that I do not permit retakes or make ups. How long have you known about needing to be with Officer Lestrade today?”

“Only earlier today. He called when I was in the middle of another class and I promptly left that one as well.” Sherlock replied, looking around at the various framed documents hanging in Dr. Watson’s office.

The professor sighed and removed his glasses to rub his eyes, “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not inclined to let you make up a quiz you’ve known about.”

Sherlock quirked a smile, stood up, and walked over to shut and lock the door to the office, “Are you quite sure there’s nothing you can do?” he said lowly, walking back over to lean over the professors desk.

Dr. Watson’s eyes grew wide as he looked up at Sherlock’s face, which had become alarmingly closer, “Sherlock Holmes, what are you insinuating?”

Sherlock grinned almost cat-like and whispered in a low voice, “Exactly what you think I am insinuating.” Before reaching across the desk to yank Dr. Watson towards him and kiss him on the mouth roughly.

Dr. Watson pushed Sherlock off and wiped his mouth, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! You’re my student, I cannot allow this!”

Sherlock almost purred as he walked around the teacher’s desk, “Oh, no worries on age, Professor, if that’s what worries you. I am legal.” Sherlock leaned down to grasp Dr. Watson’s shoulders and crush another kiss upon the professor’s lips.

Dr. Watson attempted to squirm but the slender student was more than a match, using his standing position as a leverage to keep him pinned to his chair. Sherlock grasped the professor’s hands at his sides and slid down onto his knees to mouth at the bulge that had formed under Dr. Watson’s slacks.

“Fuck…” whispered the now aroused professor as Sherlock took one hand to unzip his trousers, the other still pinning his shoulder down to the chair with a force he did not think the slender student had.

“Oh, Doctor...I haven’t even done anything and you’re nearly ready. How long has it been?” Sherlock mused, tonguing the tip of Dr. Watson’s already pre-coming cock slowly.

Dr. Watson opened his mouth to snap a sharp retort when Sherlock suddenly took the entire length of him into his mouth, sucking and licking hard while digging his fingers into the professor’s shoulder. Dr. Watson moaned softly, momentarily enjoying a feeling of bliss he had not felt in what seemed like ages. Sherlock released Dr. Watson’s shoulder to grip the base of his shaft, adding gradual pressure as he continued to lick and suck. Dr. Watson shuddered and promptly released into Sherlock’s mouth. Momentary horror crossed the professor’s face when Sherlock met eyes with him just as a thin line of come slipped from the corner of the student’s mouth. Seeing this, Sherlock smirked and licked his lips, swallowing the come. He crossed back to the other side of the desk and sat in the chair, facing Dr. Watson.

“So. About that grade?” Sherlock smiled knowingly.

Dr. Watson was shaky still, staring wide-eyed across the desk at the student that had just willingly blown him and now sat calmly on the other side of his desk as though nothing had occurred. 

He cleared his throat, “Um..I…well…I will...consider it.” He was able to choke out.

Sherlock stood up and straightened his shirt. Unlocking the door, he turned back to look at the professor to flash a cheeky wink, “Good. See you next time, Professor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering on title:  
> Malingering-  
> n. - Evading duty or work by pretending to be incapacitated  
> v. - Avoid responsibilities and duties, e.g., by pretending to be ill


	3. Mangling

Their relationship took off wildly for the rest of the semester. Sherlock attended classes regularly and this time with much more dignity. Students, Dr. Watson assumed, must have just thought he had a thorough talk with Sherlock about his behavior and was now acting better. Dr. Watson smiled to himself as he gathered his bags for the day and glanced outside to see Sherlock waiting under the red leaf maple located just outside his window’s view. The leaves, which had started to turn reddish orange, were cascading slightly in the crisp fall breeze, making the slender youth look even paler and mysterious. That is until Sherlock looked up to see the professor staring at him and made a rather grotesque face before breaking out in a grin. Dr. Watson laughed and took the elevator to the first floor, stepping out onto the building’s front steps just as Sherlock was walking up onto them.

“Hello, professor.” Sherlock said, his voice light.

“Hello, Sherlock.” Dr. Watson replied.

They walked along side by side, enjoying the companionable walk while at the same time they both knew what the other was thinking. They had set up just this past week for Sherlock to visit Dr. Watson’s apartment with the excuse of Sherlock needing to help Dr. Watson as an extracurricular point for the final that was within the next two weeks. Sherlock’s brother, Mycroft, who was the Chairman for the Student Administration, was concerned of this and although doubting Sherlock actually needed the extra points, did not ask further questions when Dr. Watson had personally come by to remark Sherlock had insisted to earn extra points.

They had begun to talk of the differences between mitosis and meiosis when a voice rang out across the quiet campus.

“John? John Watson?” a questioning voice said behind them.

Dr. Watson turned around slowly, for that voice was achingly familiar. He faced round about to see none other than Jim Moriarty. Dr. Watson drew in a sharp breath and quickly collected himself, noticing a questioning look from Sherlock.

“Hello, Jim.” Dr. Watson replied.

“It’s Dr. Moriarty now.” Jim replied cheekily, “A professor in my own right.”

“Ah. Well, hello, Professor.” Dr. Watson acquiesced, keeping a close eye on how close Jim was getting to Sherlock.

“And who is this?” Jim smiled slyly, glancing at Sherlock.

Sherlock stepped forward, proffering his hand, “Sherlock Holmes. Pleasure to meet you, Professor.”

Jim looked down at Sherlock’s outstretched hand and then up at his face before smiling coolly and turning to Dr. Watson, “I see you haven’t changed.” He licked his lips and before Dr. Watson could retort, Dr. Moriarty turned sharply on his heel and began to walk away but not without turning back to say, “Great to see you again though. Next time maybe.” He gave a small wink then continued on his way.

Dr. Watson exchanged a glance with Sherlock, whose eyes had narrowed perceptively at Professor Moriarty’s back. Neither said anything to the other as they continued to walk to Dr. Watson’s car.

“So, John, who was that really?” Sherlock inquired as soon as they were in John's car, slipping into the informal name calls the professor allowed when they were not within earshot.

“A...old friend of mine. From my Uni days.” John replied, smiling slightly.

Sherlock looked as though he doubted this but kept his mouth shut from then on about the subject, pondering quietly to himself the real matter behind John’s sudden stiff behavior.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Breaths were hitched and emotions were scattered. John gripped the edge of the bunk, desperate to contain himself as Jim bit into his shoulder while simultaneously thrusting into him. The bunk shook and tapped against the wall but else wise made no noise, the bases being properly fixed. John was thankful because he was sure the guys next door would not want to hear what he and Jim were up to.

Jim chuckled, his dark eyes shining with fierce lust, “What are you thinking about?” he asked, leaning down to kiss John on the mouth roughly.

“Just glad we got the bunks fixed from the last time.” John said, smiling up at Jim and kissing him back.

Jim laughed and suddenly pried John’s fingers from the bed to hold his wrists above his head, “Well, we needed ‘em and I wanted to fuck you. Either they got fixed or I’d doggy you mercilessly on the floor…”

John felt a smile creep onto his face as he pulled himself up a bit to nibble Jim’s nipple softly, “Maybe I’d like that.”

Jim quirked an eyebrow, “Oh really? Well then in that case!” he pulled out of John slowly, agonizingly so.

John moaned at the sudden leave, whimpering just the slightest.

“Well, you want it?” Jim smirked, “Be a good boy and come take it.”

John stood up and cupped Jim’s face in his palm before kissing Jim’s neck, “Why not just make me take it?”

Jim chuckled and pushed down on John’s shoulders gently, making John slide to the floor, before taking and forcing John onto his hands and knees.

“Oh, you’ll take it. And you’ll love it.” Jim said lowly, positioning himself behind John and sliding his arm around John’s waist.

John laughed and teasingly rubbed his arse up against Jim, who moaned and had to choke back a curse. Jim reached over for the lube and slicked himself up again before tossing the bottle back onto the bed and bending John over to the point John’s forehead was against the ground and his arse in the air.

“Oh, you’re so lovely.” Jim crooned, trailing a finger from the middle of John’s back to the small curve of his rear.

John trembled slightly, part from his attempt to keep the position stable and part from his anticipation. Jim abruptly stopped being gently and firmly gripped John’s hips and, after a slow insert, began to thrust hard and deep into John. John moaned, saliva dripping from his mouth and tears pricking his eyes from sheer pleasure. He reached to touch himself but Jim slapped a hand away and, after quickly spitting in to his own palm, Jim fisted John's cock relentlessly while doing short but firm thrusts. John could no longer contain himself and with a semi-loud moan came onto Jim’s hand and part of the carpet. Jim chuckled, feeling the pleasing clench of John around him before twisting John around to be on his back. Jim then got on his knees above John’s chest and purposefully placed his cock against the side of John’s face. Their eyes met and Jim made one short motion downwards.

John obliged and sat up to take within his mouth Jim’s cock. Jim began to tremble and moan, finally withdrawing to come on John’s chest. John collapsed on the ground and Jim lay down atop of him. They both breathed heavily, listening to the wild thumping of one another’s heart. Jim gently smoothed John’s hair before kissing his forehead.

“You’re such a good boy.” Jim breathed, grinning widely.

John smiled back and kissed Jim’s hand, “Of course. I am yours after all."

_______________________________________________

John jolted awake, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Sherlock was nuzzled into the covers next to him and merely mumbled something he couldn’t decipher before rolling over to his opposite side. John rubbed his face, wishing that he didn’t have to remember that. Remember what happened. John cursed and threw off the covers, deciding a shower would cool off his nerves.

While in the shower flashes from the dream kept appearing his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push them away.

“Fuck.” He muttered, leaning his head against the shower wall and after a moment crying quietly.

He finished in the shower, dried himself off, and made his way to his kitchen for a cup of tea. Just then, a bedraggled Sherlock peeked around the corner sleepily.

“Can you make me a cup too? I’m going to go take my shower.” He requested, rather sweetly John thought.

“Sure.” John replied with a large smile.

Sherlock stared at him a moment before shrugging and walking off to take a shower. As soon as Sherlock had left the smile slipped from John’s face as he picked up the paper. On flipping to the second page he saw the announcement for Jim Moriarty’s installment to being the new Chemistry and Microbiology professor at the University of Northumberland. John’s heart pounded as he wondered just how the hell things were going to be now.


	4. Milandering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be no direct trigger of abuse but there is implied. I am not adding a warning due to lack of concrete abuse, whether physical or emotional or else wise, but I do add this comment:  
> If even the implication of abuse triggers you, just walk away because this main chunk of this chapter speaks of it. Thanks.

Upon going into his office the following Monday, Dr. Watson noticed the new name label with Dr. Moriarty’s name stuck to the office door beside his. He cursed, wishing for a moment that they had not both decided to study science courses. He unlocked his door and walked in, tossing down his bags in the student chair before crossing over to his own chair and flopping down. Dr. Watson simply sat there, with his head in his hands, head hurting from all the thoughts zooming through his mind. That is, until a knock interrupted.

“Hey.” Officer Lestrade said, tapping again on the door before hesitantly opening it to poke his head inside, “Can I talk to you?”

Dr. Watson straightened and rubbed his face, “Yeah. What do you need, Officer?”  
Officer Lestrade walked in and shut the door behind him, “I wanted to talk to you about the new professor, Jim Moriarty.”

Dr. Watson inwardly sighed but replied, “Why? Something wrong already?”

“No.” Officer Lestrade said with a slight chuckle, “Mycroft, err I mean Mr. Holmes, was telling me that you two were familiars.”

Dr. Watson’s brow twitched, knowing that Sherlock would have been the one most likely to tell Mycroft about this, “We went to Uni together.” He said smoothly, reclining back in his chair, “Pretty good friends back then. Kind of… got separate after we hit grad school though. He went to study Chemistry and some Microbiology whereas I went for just Biology and Anatomy.”

Officer Lestrade nodded understandingly and turned back to exit the room, “Thanks. Was just curious. Seeing to new professors isn’t really my division but My—Mr.Holmes requested I stop by and ask.”

Dr. Watson gave a short wave to the officer as he exited, “Always willing to help.” 

Shortly after his departure, Dr. Watson dug in his desk drawer and pulled out an old photo. It was of him and Jim, arm and arm in their Uni colors, smiling brightly at the camera. He turned the photograph downwards onto the desk and sat back, thinking about the past.

\-----------------------

“You’ve got to study for this test if you hope to pass.” Jim whispered in his ear, sliding a hand under John’s shirt.

John chuckled, “It’s an anatomy basics test and I think I’ve had quite a bit of help memorizing everything.” He laid back and let Jim get on top of him to straddle his hips.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jim smiled, running his hands through John’s hair and kissing him sweet and slow.

John squirmed slightly, “However, I do need sleep.”

Jim scrunched up his nose with dissatisfaction, but peeled himself off of John to climb up to his top bunk, “Fine.”

John yawned, “Love ya, mate.”

“Yeah.” Jim replied, allowing the room to go silent.

The next day went smoothly; John even was certain he passed his anatomy test with flying colours. He was on his way to met with Jim in the mess hall for a small bite to eat when he happened to glance toward the stretch of trees on the far side of the campus. John narrowed his eyes then widened them in shock. He saw none other than Jim. He wasn’t alone however, half dragging behind him a young man who looked slightly dazed and fascinated while following Jim. John could not help but stare. Suddenly, Jim’s attention focused around and soon they were holding gazes. John, frozen in a state of disbelief, could only watch as Jim purposefully put the other man against a tree and began to snake his arms around his back, all whilst locking eyes with John. Feeling sick, John finally broke the gaze and turned sharply on his heel back to the dormitory, lunch soon forgotten.

A loud thwump awoke John, who bolted upright to see Jim leaning against the doorway, his book bag tossed haphazardly against the bunkbed’s base. John frowned and turned away his tear-stained face. Jim sidled up to him and wrapped his arms around him, kissing his neck.

“Why?” John croaked out, his throat dry and sore from his earlier crying.

“Why?” Jim mocked before saying, “Because I wanted to is why.”

“But..I thought we…”John trailed off.

“Oh, we are. It’s just…I get so BORED being restricted to one person.” Jim toothily grinned and turned John to face him,  
“and you don’t want me bored…do you?”

John’s eyes grew wide as he shook slightly, “No.” 

Jim had a bad temper and it became worse when he was bored. Much more to the point, John would rather do anything Jim wanted than to incur said anger, thinking back to a few bruises that he still had on his arms from the last outburst. Jim reached up to touch his cheek and John flinched. Jim’s eyes darkened slightly and he shoved John onto his back.

“You’re mine, remember?” Jim stated.

John swallowed hard, feeling wave after wave of emotions going through him. Finally, he breathed in a deep breath and spoke, “Get off.”

Jim’s brow furrowed, “Excuse me?”

“Get off” John repeated, “I’ve put up with so much but that? That I just can’t do, Jim.”

Jim clenched his fist as though to hit John, who lay looking up at him with his face set in a grim line of determination. 

Sighing, Jim moved away and motioned to the door, “Get out then. I’m going for a walk. Be back tomorrow. You have until then.” He leaned in close to John’s face to whisper, “If you’re still here, you’ll regret it.” 

Jim left the room, taking with him his bookbag and slamming the door behind him. John began to hyperventilate. What am I going to do, he thought to himself, there’s still two weeks left in the semester before we graduate. Keeping these thoughts in mind, John quickly started packing all his things. Knowing he would not be able to do it alone he skipped next door to ask for help, which was, rather surprisingly, readily given. John flipped through his contacts on his phone. Definitely could not call his sister Harriet, she would end up telling their parents and causing all sorts of trouble, especially since she never approved of Jim in the first place. His finger paused over a number whom he did not want to call but knew would be the only way to keep himself in classes and out of trouble. His old family friend, Mr. Mike Stamford. John knew Mr. Stamford, who had known John since infancy, would take him in and help him should he befall any trouble, especially since he was the only other person aware of Jim's abusive tendencies.

“Hey. Mr. Stamford.” John said after the man on the other line picked up.

“Hello, John! It’s quite late at night. Is something wrong? Did Jim hurt you?” Mr. Stamford said his voice full of concern.

“Yeah, no, I'm fine. It’s just I got kicked out of my dormroom and with there being only a few weeks left I was wondering could I bunk on your couch?” John said, leaning his head against the bunk post as he talked.

“Of course…but, you said to me that should you say that you were also planning something else.” Mr. Stamford replied gently.

“Yes, I did and I intend to go through with it…as soon as I have my degree, I’ll go into the military for four years, as promised to pay you back for all you've done to me.” John bit his lip, thinking about the student loans that his long-time neighbor and friend Mr. Stamford had been helping him pay back since his family decided that they would not fund his education after his sister's wastefulness during her college years. When he had begun to borrow money, Mr. Stamford had told him all debts would be paid BUT had John agree to sign up for the military via his office, since he was a recruiter now, to own up for those fees should that day come.

It did not take long after that decision was made for Mr. Stamford to arrive and help assist John move all of his belongings, which thankfully were not many. Upon lying down for the night on Mr. Stamford’s couch, John thought about how he was going to go to classes with Jim present. He soon found that Jim not even bothered to stick around, instead allowing his grades to drop until he failed completely. John thought to himself that this was not exactly a bad thing, since he could avoid seeing Jim anytime soon. 

The next two or so weeks had passed quickly and John struggled to keep his grades up but passed nevertheless with honors. As his diploma was being handed to him on stage he happened to glance around at the crowd and see Jim standing in a corner. His mouth went dry and the President pulled his gaze away to congratulate him. When he looked back, Jim had gone. Mr. Stamford met with him later to discuss the military and its services. That summer John became a soldier. That summer John cast away all thoughts of Jim and of their relationship. That summer John felt, or at least he thought he felt, that all his troubles were finally gone.

______________

Never could he have been more wrong.


	5. Misconstruing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: asphyxiation & implied abuse.

The day drudged on what seemed like endlessly. The sun was long set when Dr. Watson was finally able to sit back in his chair, a stack of papers on his desk finally graded. He rubbed his eyes and pulled out his phone just as Sherlock texted him.

- **Still at college?** \- _SH_

-Yeah. Just finished grading papers.\- _JW_

- **I’m coming around that way.** \- _SH_

-It’s pretty late. Why not just see me tomorrow since it’s now the weekend?- _JW_

- **Because I don’t want to** \- _SH_

Dr. Watson chuckled to himself, practically hearing the determination Sherlock was giving off through a simple text.

-Ok, then. You know where I’ll be.\- _JW_

- **Kay.** - _SH_

Dr. Watson put his phone into his pocket and loosened his tie. Despite Sherlock’s good grades, he insisted to keep the rocky relationship they had formed. The professor tousled his hair, relieving some of the stress from the day from himself and sank deep into his chair. What only seemed like moments later he heard the door handle rattle as it was being turned. He decided to stay still, keeping his eyes shut that way Sherlock would have to “awaken” him. He heard footsteps approaching his desk, but as they stepped closer he realized they were wrong, and his eyes flew open.

In front of him now stood not Sherlock but Jim, who was smiling down hungrily at John.

“Hello, John.” Jim said, casually laying down on the desk and the papers strewn about it.

John scooted back, appalled, “What do you want, Jim?”

“I’m bored.” Jim commented, almost not even to John, as he lay on his back.

John became annoyed, “And? Go find someone else to fuck with.”

“But I want you to entertain me.” Jim stated, turning his head so he could face John, “Won’t you entertain me?”

John got up out of his chair and went around the desk as well as Jim’s outstretched legs to open the door, “Get out.”

Jim sat up and straightened his suit, “Nah.” He said, standing up completely and practically slithering to John’s side, “I think not.”

Jim shoved John against the wall beside the door and slapped John’s hand away from the handle before closing the door completely. John struggled against Jim but the other professor had a strong hold on him now.

“Get the fuck off me.” John seethed through clenched teeth.

“Hmm… No.” Jim smirked and jerked his knee up between John’s legs.

John yelped and struggled again but was stopped by Jim gripping his throat firmly.

“Keep struggling and I’ll have to hurt you.” Jim maliciously declared, tightening his grip slightly.

John stopped struggling and glared at Jim, knowing that Jim would squeeze even tighter. John’s piercing glare immediately disappeared though upon hearing the knob on his door turn. Jim heard it as well and leaned forward to roughly kiss John’s lips just as the door opened and Sherlock walked in.

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks, the knob still in his hand as he watched Jim flick his tongue into John’s mouth then turn to face him, saliva dripping from his lip.

“Hello, Sherlock.” Jim said cheerily, “How good to see you.”

John saw emotions flash upon the student’s face. Confusion, shock, betrayal, disbelief. _Pain._

“Sher--” John started to say but stopped when Sherlock suddenly turned and fled from the room.

Jim clicked his tongue, “Awe. Did you and that boy have a connection?”

John looked back at Jim, “And you figured that out as soon as you saw him didn’t you.” He stated this accusation rather than ask.

With a chuckle, Jim released John, “Of course I did. Now though you’ll know the feeling of being left.”

John’s blood boiled with anger, “Feeling of being _LEFT_?!” he bellowed, shoving Jim back into the opposing wall, “ _YOU’RE_ the one who _CHEATED_ on _ME_! I had _EVERY_ right to leave you! You treated me like _SHIT_. When you weren’t fucking me and calling me sweet names while doing so you would hit me! You would choke me just like you were doing only a moment ago! No! If anything, _YOU_   really should be the one suffering!”

Jim stared wide-eyed at John as he saw the nerves twitching below the shorter man’s temple and cheeks flare red with anger. Instead of retaliating though he merely glanced over John’s shoulder. John followed his gaze to see Officer Lestrade standing in the open doorway, an eyebrow raised and arms folded. John promptly released Jim, letting him slide to the floor in a heap. Footsteps could be heard coming from the corridor and Mycroft came to stand beside Lestrade. John eyed both warily and stepped back from Jim. Before he could speak Mycroft help up a hand and then turned his wrist to point at Lestrade, who walked forward with a pair of handcuffs.

“Professor Jim Moriarty, you’re under arrest on three accounts of first-degree murder.” Lestrade said, dragging Jim off of the floor and turning him around to cuff him.

John’s brow furrowed as he looked at Mycroft, who merely responded by giving an envelope to him. John and Jim exchanged a glance as Officer Lestrade escorted him out, with John simply shaking his head sadly as he opened the envelope. Incased were several pictures of three women who looked as though they had been torn to shreds by claws. John’s heart caught in his throat.

On each woman’s back was a letter. The first said “I”, the second said, “O”, and the third said, “U”. Their faces, mangled to almost undistinguishable properties, all had two initials carved into the hollows of their cheeks: “JW”. Their blonde hair too had been cut to an extremely short length that resembled that of John’s own close cut.

John placed the file down on his desk and swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. Mycroft walked over to retrieve the file and slip it under his arm before walking back towards the door. Just as he was about to turn down into the hallway he did turn on his heel to comment.

“I saw my brother run from this building just a moment ago. He looked to be upset. Call this number.” Mycroft pulled out a slip of paper with a phone number scribbled onto it, “Obviously you two need to talk.”

John took the slip of paper from Mycroft, looked at the number, then back at Mycroft, “How…?”

“Oh please. It was transparent.” Mycroft sighed with an elaborate roll of his eyes.

“Ah.” John said, actually temporarily embarrassed that their relationship had been that obvious. He held up the note, “Thanks.”

“Oh, don’t thank me.” Mycroft tutted, “You’ve still got to talk to him. If you’re successful then you can thank me. If not, well, I know the quickest way to get you fired.” He smiled coldly, “I worry over him constantly and should you be a source of trouble I know how to be rid of you.”

John nodded, understanding exactly what Mycroft was implying. He left from his office quickly and hurried home, clutching the note in his hand and praying that all could be resolved.


	6. Meandering

John pulled out his cellphone as soon as he got home and dialed Sherlock’s cell number. The voicemail dialed after a few moments and John gritted his teeth upon hearing Sherlock’s voice ring out to leave a message. He pulled out the slip of paper Mycroft had handed him and saw a house phone number scrawled across it. John carefully dialed the number and waited.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times before the messaging machine picked up, a man’s voice that sounded like a deeper version of Mycroft’s telling him to simply leave a name and number for future contacting. John clicked the end button of his phone and rubbed his face, agitated.  He tried several more times with both the cell and house number, even leaving a pleading message on Sherlock’s cell, before giving up.

Frustrated, John got up and went back out of his house and towards the park a few blocks away, hoping that the late-night air would help calm him down. As he rounded the corner John saw a lone figure rocking back and forth slowly on the swings. He slowed his pace and after a moment recognized the unruly curly hair and long coat of Sherlock. John’s heart caught in his throat as he drew up his courage and walked towards Sherlock, whose back was to him. He was nearly upon Sherlock when a twig snapped underfoot, causing the youth to turn around quickly. Sherlock’s eyes were red as though he had been crying. He quickly turned his face away from John.

“What do you want?” Sherlock muttered, looking at the wood chips beneath his feet as he went back to swaying.

“I…I wanted to talk.” John replied, sitting in the swing next to Sherlock’s, “What you saw isn’t what you think..”

“Is it? I knew as soon as you saw Professor Moriarty there was something between you two. I guess I was just in the way, a plaything to fill your time with.” Sherlock said, still looking at the ground.

John sighed, “Jim and I had a history yes.” He saw Sherlock stiffen slightly but continued on, “but not in the good way…you see, we met in Uni and I thought I was in love. He did all the right things and said everything sweetly, at first.”

John took a moment to compose his resolution before telling Sherlock about the horrors he had faced, the abuse he had endured, and the betrayal that ended the relationship.

Sherlock remained quiet, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. John was slightly nervous. He had never before told anyone, not even Mr. Stamford, about the full story between him and Jim. The stillness in the air began to make him uneasy and John reached over carefully to touch Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock did not make any motion to push John away, so John stood up from his swing to stand in front of Sherlock, waiting a moment before taking the young man’s jaw in hand to have him face upwards. Slow, quiet tears were falling from Sherlock’s eyes as John carefully reached up to wipe them away with his thumb.

“Why do you cry?” John asked softly, petting the side of Sherlock’s face.

“Because I am an idiot. A big stupid idiot.” Sherlock murmured into the professor’s palm as it came across his lips.

John kissed the top of Sherlock’s head and whispered into the dark curls, “No you’re not. You’re brilliant. You’re fantastic and amazing.”

John heard Sherlock sniffle and then do a slight hiccup before laughing at himself. John smiled and straightened, proffering his hand to Sherlock. Sherlock looked up, confused.

“We best be getting you home. It’s…” John looked at his watch, “Nearly 1am and I’m pretty sure your brother is going to kill me if you’re not safe back at home.”

Sherlock took John’s hand and lifted himself off the seat, “Can I stay with you tonight? I will call Mycroft to let him know.”

John smiled, “If you’re brother is ok with it then I would love to have you stay.”

Sherlock took his phone out of his pocket, momentarily surprised at the amount of texts and messages left before shaking his head and dialing his brother’s number. John could hear from the other end a quite annoyed but relieved Mycroft, who saw no issue with Sherlock staying with John. Sherlock closed the phone and put it back into his pocket. They walked back to John’s apartment, discussing with one another the familiar topic of coursework and upcoming classes.

“It is getting rather late in the semester. Time to pick out your classes for the Spring Semester.” John commented as he opened the door for Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded, “Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll stay here…I was actually thinking of transferring.”

John stepped inside and removed his shoes, placing them by the doormat, “Oh?”

“Yeah… I mean, we can remain in contact and all. If you wanted that is...” Sherlock said hesitantly.

Grinning wide John enveloped Sherlock into his arms, “Of course. Emails and phone calls and maybe the occasional weekends to see one another. Yeah?”

Sherlock nestled into John’s chest and returned his smile, “Yeah.”

\------------------

John and Sherlock did indeed keep constant contact for about the next two or so years of their relationship, exchanging emails and phone calls often and every once in a while visiting one another for an enjoyable weekend. Even during the summer months John took time from his part-time teachings to visit Sherlock. Due to his studies, however, Sherlock had to perform a study-abroad program and the continual contact between he and John slowly began to die out. John attempted his best to contact Sherlock but where ever the young man had traveled to he could not reach him, even by email.

\-----------------

John had given up nearly all hope of ever finding Sherlock again after another two year of no contact. Even Mr. Stamford, who he turned to in time of need, could no longer comfort him for he passed away from a heart attack halfway through the first year of Sherlock’s mysterious silence. John looked over the campus from his third-story window, wishing to see the fresh-faced lad he had come to love be looking back at him from under the tree, whose leaves had long fallen off and whose branches were covered with snow. John sighed and gathered his bags, as usual, and headed home, opting to hail a taxi instead of walk since the temperature seemed to have dropped even further from the last time he had checked. His apartment seemed so empty without Sherlock’s visits which had previously filled the entire place with his excitement and boisterous voice. He reached over to flick on the lamp by the couch.

There, sitting in his chair, was Sherlock. His eyes were closed and his fingers steepled in front of his lips. John noticed that Sherlock’s face had filled out and he had grown a considerable height. He sat not in the casual clothes that John last remembered him wearing as they exchanged goodbyes but a neatly trimmed black suit with a dark plum shirt underneath, making him appear even more sophisticated.

Sherlock opened his eyes and smiled, _“Hello, John.”_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends the story of how John and Sherlock first met and opens up on how Sherlock convinces John to later leave from the college to join him in solving cases for the Scotland Yard. ☺


End file.
